Unwelcome Thought Bubbles
by TheyCallMeSnow
Summary: Joyce Stevens found herself in a pickle. She was Head Girl with James Potter, a boy she had long ago decided was too volatile to be her friend, let alone more than that. She never thought she would be so confused.
1. Chapter 1

Unwelcome Thought Bubbles

**A/N: So this is my remake of TSNOTM, guys! I hope you like it. I can't pretend it will be just like TSNOTM, because my writing style has matured, but I think you'll find a lot of similarities between this and TSNOTM. **

**Happy reading, lovelies!**

**xSnow**

Chapter One

"_Show me that you're human;_

_you won't break!_

_..._

_You're a spark without flame  
I'm a desert in the rain,  
You're a mountain and I'm a stepping stone  
So walk away from your pride  
It's the demon in disguise  
And it won't help you to calm the swelling tide."_

—Gabrielle Aplin,_ "Human"_

The summer had gone by all too quickly. Too much time had been spent wishing to be back at Hogwarts, and to much time had been spent dreading the return. Eventually I had to admit to myself that I was undeniably nervous about the return to the castle. Seventh year was a huge part of my life, with the NEWTs and all, and I knew I had to practice and practice and (you guessed it!) practice some more if I wanted to pass and become an Auror like my father before me.

The morning of my departure, I awoke with a start. The dream I had had was what woke me. In the dream, I was standing in the Great Hall, surrounded by people who were admiring me and my new haircut. They all cheered, screaming that my pale blue eyes were the most beautiful things they had ever seen, begging for me to love them. In the dream, I hated it. I didn't imagine that would be the case in real life, however. My best friends, Dominique Weasley, Rose Weasley, and Arwen Lance were the ones that caught everyone's eyes. They were all absolutely stunning in everyone's eyes, and I was...well. I was the potato friend.

Arwen smiled at boys, and they blushed sheepishly back. Rose grinned at boys, and they talked about it for weeks. Dom winked at boys, and they never shut up about it. I smiled shyly at boys, and they asked their friends: "why is that potato smiling at me?" Really, though, they did. I had never been skinny, never been busty, never been stunningly gorgeous...I basically lived through my friends, forever feeling inadequate. They tried to tell me that I was pretty, but I always brushed them off.

It wasn't until the summer after sixth year that I really started trying. I did makeup (and I was pretty good, actually). I embraced my crazy-curly hair instead of trying to force it into being silky straight and perfect like Dominique's. I wore clothes I thought looked good instead of just walking around in baggy shorts and a t shirt. But I was doing it for me, not for other people, and so when I realized I had become someone who was actually kind of beautiful, I smiled secretly to myself. My short, thick, dark brown ringlet curls framed my crystal blue eyes, and they were accented by light brown eyeshadow. I had a light dusting of freckles on my nose which had darkened over the summer. I had a light gloss on my lips, and I felt perfectly feminine. I fit in now. I could feel almost equal to Dom and Rose and Arwen. I was finally comfortable in my own pale skin.

In first year, I was content living in their shadows. It's not that I was quiet; I wasn't. My main problem was that I was obnoxiously loud and didn't really have a filter. Because of this, most people didn't like me. I knew they probably would't like me in sixth year, either. But I didn't really care. The people I wanted to like me liked me. People just were intimidated by me, my dad would tell me. I was the definition of sarcasm, as well, and loved pointing out other people's flaws. Mainly if they were stupid.

Oh, stupid people. They were the bane of my existence, forever making me doubt the small amount of faith I had in humanity. And Arwen and I loved making fun of them. When one of the Slytherin girls said something unbelievably idiotic, ("Wait, so you're telling me Panama is an independent country? I thought it was owned by Cuba!") we could just look at each other and we knew that we were both making fun of the same person.

That's just how close I was with Arwen. I liked Rose and Dominique, they were great, but Arwen and I had known each other since we went to muggle primary school together. Our fathers had worked together at the Ministry, and were best friends, so it only made sense that Arwen and I were as well. I could tell her anything. We could talk about anything. I could accidentally walk in on her naked, laugh at her, and then walk out as if nothing had happened. We laughed about it later, and it's been a running joke between us ever since. There was just a special kind of friendship between us that couldn't be replicated.

"Joyce!" My mother's voice called to me from downstairs, "You need to get up! We leave for King's Cross in thirty minutes!"

"I'm up, mum!" I yelled back, scrambling out of bed so my lie would become a truth.

I put on my makeup and and got dressed, all wondering what the girls would think of me. I had wanted to see them this summer, but it just hadn't worked out, so I would have to surprise them today. We had owled, of course, but it wasn't the same as just talking to them face-to-face. All the summers before this one, we had all stayed at the Burrow for a few weeks. This summer, however, Grandma Weasley had surgery on her hip, and so there was no opportunity for me to visit.

After a short breakfast, our family of six piled into the car. Usually, we would travel by Floo, but after a rather unfortunate accident involving Alec and the majority of our Floo powder, the fireplace had been damaged so badly that it had to be replaced. It wouldn't be ready until the middle of September, so my father had commissioned a car from the Ministry. My mother and father sat up front and argued softly about the approach of another mission my father had to go on. My ten year old brother Alec whined about not getting to go to Hogwarts. Reese, a third year Ravenclaw brother of mine, told Alec to stop talking so he could read, (the course books for his year, of course,) while my fifth year Gryffindor sister Savannah and I thumb wrestled over who got the last biscuit in the tin.

Our car was crazy, sure, but my family were my rock. It was always crazy in our house, and I had fully accepted that fact. I loved my big family, and it always made me think of how large of a family Rose and Dom had. Seriously. When the whole gang was gathered at the Burrow, they had to eat outside because the giant house just couldn't contain them anymore. I wanted five kids eventually, as well, because the loving dynamic that was created by large families was something I wanted desperately. Eventually, Savannah won our long-winded thumb wrestle match, just as we pulled up to King's Cross.

Thirty minutes later, after many tearful goodbye hugs from my mother and statements of affirmation from my father that I would do great and that I was gorgeous, I boarded the Hogwarts train. The glorious scarlet train hooted that departure was imminent, its smoke billowing majestically behind it. I found myself nostalgically staring at it, knowing that this would be the last time that I boarded. Hogwarts had been my home for six years...I wasn't sure that I could leave it now. Or ever. Heaven knows, though, for all I know, I could be unbelievably tired of the castle come end of year. But that had never happened before, and so I knew that graduation would be one of the hardest things I would do in my seventh year.

And it would be hard, I knew that for sure. The NEWTs were coming up, I had to figure out what on earth I was going to do once I graduated if I didn't get into the Auror training schools, and on top of that, I was Head Girl.

Yep. It had come in the mail with my Hogwarts letter, shiny and small, proclaiming my achievement. I was excited, but I felt fairly unqualified for the job. I had been a Prefect since fifth year, but I still felt like my grades weren't high enough and that I wasn't an exemplary-enough student. I was no Rose Weasley, that was for sure. But my parents had been very proud of me, and so I would try my best to be worthy of the title. I just hoped that the Head Boy would be someone I could get along with without abusing them verbally.

Currently, however, I was focused on finding my friends. They would probably be in one of the compartments in the Weasley/Potter hall. The gang was so large that one compartment would never be enough. They had a hallway of about six compartments that some of them just rotated throughout, saying hello to everyone. Part of the reason that they needed so much space were the adopted Weasley/Potters, like me. There were usually more of us than original Weasley/Potters.

I opened the first compartment. They weren't there. Instead, James Potter and Fred Weasley smirked impishly at me. "Ugh," I exclaimed, "I don't have time for this." They pulled me in regardless, however, and Fred let go of me at the exact moment that James pulled me to him so I was laying across his lap, with my head in his lap looking up at him.

"Hello beautiful," James drawled, trying to be flattering. There was no denying his attractiveness. Hazel eyes that went on forever. Messy dark hair that was just so sexy you wanted to pull it out...sorry what was I saying? Oh yeah. James. He had beautiful cheekbones, as well, ones that you could cut your hand slapping...I knew, I'd done it before.

"James, what are you doing?" I said as I got off his lap. I wanted to stay there, admittedly, but I knew it was far too improper for me to do so.

"Just saying hello, darling," oh, he was_ so_ hot. Gorgeous, even. But he and I were volatile. We had trying being friends before in fourth year, since I was close with his cousins, and I had even liked him for a while...he told me he liked me, too, but about a week after "professing his affection," he was back to snogging dimwitted Hufflepuffs in empty broom closets.

"Well next time, stupid, please refrain from feeling the need to have me on top of you."

"I thought you liked being the dominant one," he said, eyes mischievous. I almost laughed at him. I would have, if I wasn't busy being mortified.

"You'll never know, will you, James?" I smirked and walked out of the compartment.

If I had taken the time to look back and see what I had done, I would've seen the pain and rejection on James Potter's face.

**And that's Chapter One! Please Read and Review, and I'm always welcome to story suggestions!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am really bad at this whole continuity thing. And I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while. But I don't think it will get much better soon. I'm going to Spain with my school in 14 days (I'm in ninth grade, BTW,) and so I am going to try to update as much as possible before then. **

**Love you all!**

**xSnow**

**Chapter Two**

"_Remember once, the things you told me?_

_And how the tears ran from my eyes?_

…

_Sometimes I wish we could be strangers _

_so I didn't have to know your pain_

_but if I kept myself from danger _

_this emptiness would be the same_

_I ain't know angel. _

_I never was._

_But I never hurt you. _

_It's not my fault."_

—"_No Angel" _by Birdy

JAMES

"She is so beautiful when she's angry," I thought as I tried to recover from being shot down by Joyce again. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, because I asked her out every other day, but this time she squeezed the little bit of hope that I had had out of me. It was a dull feeling, like being kicked hard in the chest. My breath was there, but there was a feeling inside me that bubbled and burned and came out of me in a crooked sort of love. An angry love. An affectionate hatred. I could never survive without her and yet I can barely breathe when she comes. As we sit there on the train and Fred asks me on a scale of one to ten how hurt I am, all I can do is look blankly forward. He takes that as his answer and stops talking.

"I'm going to Arwen's compartment." Fred tells me, a weary sense of longing in his voice. Arwen is his Joyce, I suppose. But unlike with me and Joyce, I could tell there was a mutual attraction, even if he couldn't. It was the way she looked at him after she said something biting. She wasn't feeling it anymore. Arwen didn't want to be mean to Fred anymore. She just didn't know how to do anything else.

Was that how Joyce felt about me? I liked to hope so, but there wasn't much chance. Fourth year was disastrous. I hadn't meant to hurt her like I did, but I got the feeling that she was indifferent and didn't know what to do with that feeling. That sense of desperation...it was a feeling that I had come to be too familiar with. And as Fred walked out of the compartment, I felt that there was nothing I could do to change Joyce. There was nothing I would want to do to change her. She was fantastic and made me so deliciously happy sometimes. On the rare occasion when she would talk to me, anyway. So I followed Fred to where they were, hoping to talk to her and possibly smooth over what had happened when we saw each other last.

….

"He really was fit," I heard Arwen exclaim as Fred and I approached the compartment. "He had really deep brown eyes..." I saw Fred's head perk up, the little hope in his heart thinking maybe she was talking about him. And then: "he had red hair, too. Not Fred Weasley red, but a prettier, darker red."

His face fell. But Fred Weasley was not someone to show hurt, so he waltzed into the compartment regardless. "Talking about me, ladies?" he said, fake smirk in place.

"In your dreams, Weasley," Arwen shot out just as soon as Fred's words had left his mouth.

"How did you know that you've been in my dreams? Granted, you were wearing a lot less-" he was cut off when Arwen kicked him in the shin. "Makeup!" he protested, "you were wearing a lot less makeup!" I grinned at Fred's antics as I watched Joyce hide a snicker. It was funny, she couldn't deny that.

She looked up at me, and even though we only held each other's gaze momentarily, I couldn't keep a zany smile off my face.

"Bugger!" She yelped, standing up in the compartment and banging her head on the luggage carrier above her. "I have the prefect meeting! Now! I can't be late for a meeting _I'm conducting!_" looking back on that, I know that I should have realized that she was talking about being Head Girl. But I tried not to think about it as I followed her through the hallway to the meeting.

She sighed. "We aren't friends, Potter," she spun around, cheeks rosy and eyes bleary, "so I don't know why you're following me."

I really wanted to wait to see her reaction when there were more witnesses around, but I couldn't help myself. "I'm Head Boy, Joyce."

Her reaction was better than I could have planned myself. She looked at me, then her badge, then my badge, then all around. She then proceeded to not only pinch herself but to pinch me as well. All the while whispering "there's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no place like home." The finale, however, was when she said to me: "well then, tally-ho!" and walked into the Head's compartment.

There were plenty of people in the room, I quickly decided. I was used to being around large crowds, but I wasn't usually speaking or directing a meeting in front of them. But, like always, Joyce was more prepared than I was, and she directed the meeting. I mean, I said a couple things that could be viewed as important, but, as usual, I felt that I was not the driving force for how much got done. She was speedy, getting things checked off of the agenda faster than I could have introduced them. And she had an air of confidence around her that I knew was new. She was taking charge. It was really attractive.

…

Once the meeting finished, every one of the prefects left until it was just Joyce and I. I stared at her for a while, wondering if she would notice.

"You do know we aren't friends, right Potter?" she questioned looking up at me.

"I think we are," I said, finding within myself a boldness I wasn't aware I contained.

"No, we really aren't, I'm afraid," If I squinted one eye, it almost looked as though she were remorseful. "The brief friendship that we had in fourth year has long since dissipated."

"Why did it stop?" I asked, truly ignorant.

She looked up at me then, and I could see her insecurity. She didn't want to talk about it. But I knew she would anyway. "Do you want the truth or the sugar-coated version?"

"Give it to me raw."

She looked me in the eyes. "We stopped being friends because you got bored of me, James. Because I wasn't shiny enough. I wasn't new enough. I wasn't _good_ enough for the great James Sirius Potter. I'm not an angel, James. I never was. But _I_ never hurt _you_. This isn't my fault."

And she left. Walked out of the room and ran away from me. Did I really, truly make her feel that way? Like she wasn't good enough? Because she was more than just good enough! She was everything and anything and perfect. All I needed. Why didn't she think she was? Was I the cause of her insecurities? Because if I was, then I wasn't sure if I wanted to be me anymore. If all I knew was how to hurt others, then I was useless. If all I cared about was personal gain, then I was despicable.

But I wasn't.

All I cared about was Joyce.

So I chased her out of the compartment.

**Please review, guys! It means a lot to me!**

**Love, Snow xoxo**


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